by Zoe Blake
Everything in Eden comes with a price.
Chapter 7
Three of the cloaked men arrived with manacles and chains, and most of the cardinals stepped back to allow them to move her. One of them shackled her arms above her head, and the other two did the same to her ankles, running the chains through points beneath the table that bent her knees and kept her thighs spread painfully wide. When they were finished adjusting the lengths, her ass rested at the very lip of the table, and there was no give, no way out, no escape.
“Don’t cry, my child. This is a blessing. So few are ever chosen to receive this second baptism, and the holy blessings we give you will protect your body and soul.” The head cardinal trailed his gaze down to settle between her thighs where she felt her core clench tighter. “It is why you had to be purified, made new. Only the pure can be blessed.”
“I’m not—”
“Shh, child. God has chosen you.” One of the cardinals laid his fingers over her lips, and when she tried to explain again about the calls to service and the cruel priest, he moved his whole hand over her mouth and held it there.
“Let us pray,” the head cardinal said, laying his palms on her thighs as he stepped closer to the table. “God, give us the strength to baptize this woman of Eden. To mark her as one protected by the house of the Lord, and to cloak her in the power of the holy. Fathers, I remind all of us that God shall never give us more temptation than we can handle, for in this we must serve him well.”
“Amen,” they chorused around her, and then two of the black-cloaked men stepped forward to remove the elaborate crimson robe from the head cardinal. She couldn’t see him well with her head pinned to the table, but she could hear the sound of his hand working his cock and the low groan in his chest. Another cardinal pressed his hand into her lower belly, and she whined.
The lightest brush of her clit summoned liquid heat, and someone dragged their finger through her folds, spreading the wetness that she hoped made some difference to what the other bastard had done to her in his fucked-up hospital.
“Give your pain to God,” the head cardinal said as he lined up and thrust in hard, tearing into her with one vicious spike of agony. Her scream was muffled by the hand over her lips, body pinned to the stone beneath her as the man pulled back and thrust again. Just as horrible, she wailed, finally able to voice the torment as her entrance was forced open and her inner walls seized and cramped. “Your purity, your suffering, is what will make the blessing strong.”
Bullshit! she wanted to scream. There was no purity left in her, not after every violent, debased thing that had been done to her inside Eden. She’d been fucked in every way imaginable, used and defiled, and it didn’t matter that their baptisms healed her skin — nothing could heal the damage inside. The shattered pieces of the person she had been before their sanctuary. Before this nightmare.
Hell. She was in Hell, and no prayer from their lips or hers would stop this torture or save any of them. God wasn’t watching. God, if he had ever existed, was dead.
“Yes, my child…” the head cardinal started to thrust more quickly, grunting and praying in stilted words as she cried. Finally, he pulled free and she felt the first warm drops of his seed on her belly just before someone stroked her clit in quick circles and she arched off the stone as the orgasm possessed her. A blinding wave of pleasure that obliterated the pain for a glorious flash that in a less broken person might have been a religious experience.
Her moans bordered on screams as she shook, and through the haze she heard the head cardinal speaking through rough breaths. “See how her body accepts the blessing? How God turns her pain to ecstasy in celebration? She has been chosen and will deliver us our weapon, each drop of her blood spilled in her service proves her purity, and we must do our part. Now, continue and baptize her, cardinals.”
His last command was barely complete when another cardinal was between her thighs, ignoring her whimpers as he slammed inside. A fresh wave of pain that made her scream, and the very room seemed to shake in response, but no one else reacted. Sobbing, she strained at the manacles holding her arms taut, but another pair of hands pressed her forearms into the stone to prevent it. Too much. Raw and torn, he kept fucking her.
Just like before, as he pulled out and spilled his seed, she was granted an orgasm. Lost in the bone melting haze, she slowly became aware of hands stroking the still warm come over her belly, her breasts, before another cardinal ripped his way inside her. Merciless, they seemed to only thrust harder when she screamed, cried, wept — not even pausing when a roar hurt her ears. But maybe the thunderous sound was only in her head.
Maybe she was losing her mind.
Four, five, six of them and she was still conscious. The pain was unavoidable. Even as her muscles grew weak from the constant strain, the torment that felt like knives tearing at her never wavered. She wailed in agony, begged and pleaded, until even her voice started to give out.
Their seed was spread across all of her exposed skin, fingers dipping into her mouth to feed it to her once she was too weak to fight back at all.
She’d lost count completely when the pain finally began to ebb, when every thrust didn’t feel like pure torture, but there were still two more who used her until they too were spent. The forced orgasms still rocked her, leaving her weaker each time, but finally, they were done.
Would they leave her alone? Let her sleep? Finally kill her?
“Cardinals, our blessed Danielle has been baptized by this holy council.” The head cardinal was nearby again, but she didn’t bother opening her eyes even when he blocked the warmth of the fire with his body. “We thank you for your gift, my child.”
“Thank you,” the others repeated.
“God has made her strong, and made her body ready for the final baptism.” Those words got her eyes to open, and she whimpered as she looked up at the cardinal’s red robes, glowing with the light of the fire behind him. A dark, damned figure.
“The devil,” she whispered, knowing the evil in him first hand, but he looked down at her with a strange look on his face.
“No, child, you are protected. He cannot harm you, and with your body, you will bring us a weapon to win this war.” Raising his hands, he clapped once and the cloaked men returned. Dazed, she almost smiled when one of the men handed the head cardinal a knife.
Finally, death.
“Cardinals, we know that under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and so our last gift is the final baptism. It will protect her in her purity, just as her blood purifies her service.”
The cloaked man who had provided the knife pushed the hood back from his face, revealing a shaved head, and pale skin. As the cloak was pulled away by others, he moved between her legs in silence. Young and muscular and naked, he leaned over her, arms braced by her waist, and she shook her head, tensing as she prepared for him to violate her.
“My child, we thank you for your sacrifice and your service to God.” Without pause, the head cardinal dragged the knife across the man’s throat. There was a terrible choking sound, wet and sucking, as hot blood poured over her stomach and chest. Cloaked figures caught him by the arms, holding him as he died. It was the head cardinal who laid a hand on the man’s forehead to lift it, letting the last drops spill before he dipped his thumb into the mess and traced a cross on her forehead. Almost exactly where the gentle priest had.
In shock, Danielle shuddered, wanting to scrape the man’s blood off her skin, and when her tongue moved to wet her lips she tasted copper. They had killed him. Murdered. Broken a commandment under the guise of a holy rite. If she had not been hollow already, she would have mocked their hypocrisy as he was carried away by the others as if nothing horrible had happened.
Damned. We are all damned.
Broken, she didn’t fight as the cloaked men returned and undid her chains. They had to lift her from the stone, holding her upright when her legs wouldn’t support her as blood flowed over her skin, dripping
down her legs.
“Remember that you are thrice blessed and protected by God, our Lord. No evil will have dominion over you, my child, even as you give all of your self.” The head cardinal gestured and the cloaked men half-carried, half-dragged her after him as the cardinal led the way to the other end of the massive room. Leaving a crimson trail that the other cardinals followed.
This time, the roar that shook the floor beneath her feet was definitely real. Everyone paused for a moment, and Danielle raised her eyes to the door just as a rumbling growl emanated from behind it.
“What…” It was the only word she could say before smoke wafted in front of her face. Choking on it, she ended up breathing more of it in as she coughed. Sugary sweet, her head was spinning a second later, but they kept her face close to the golden object. Suspended on a chain, it swayed, spilling forth gray smoke that choked her lungs. Suddenly dizzy, she would have collapsed without the men holding her up.
“Danielle, your faith will keep you strong even in the presence of evil. We all serve God in our own ways, and you alone can use the gifts God has given woman to herald our victory.” The head cardinal opened the door himself, and she was dragged forward until the pitch black of the space beyond was inches from her toes. Confused, unable to make sense of his words, she struggled to lift her eyes to the darkness. “Give God your pain, child. He honors those who serve him,” he whispered.
A searing pain suddenly sliced across her shoulders, and she cried out just before she was shoved forward into the dark.
Chapter 8
The heavy sound of the door locking behind her was nothing compared to the low rumbling growl that seemed to come from everywhere. On scuffed hands and knees, she tried to find the source in the darkness, but there was nothing to see. Worse, the terrible pain in her back confirmed that the head cardinal had used the knife to slice her open.
“WHY!” she weakly yelled at the door, or at least she thought it was the direction of the door. Still, she had to bite her cheek to stop the tears. They had taken everything from her, brutalized her over and over, and for what? To shove her in a cell so she could die as slowly as possible?
Maybe that’s why they fed me, so I’d last longer.
A harsh, hysterical laugh burst past her lips, and she tried to sit upright, but the skin on her back pulled and she hissed air through her teeth. Another growl buzzed through the air, just to her left, and she pushed herself away from it despite the pain. Too weak to run from whatever it was, she wiped at her running nose and scrubbed the tears from her cheeks. “Please don’t hurt me anymore. Just kill me. End it, please.”
“Hurt you…” a low, strange voice echoed, this time coming from the right.
Danielle reached out, sweeping her arm through empty space even as the wound in her back spilled more blood. It hurt, but she’d been in pain for so long that her body just felt tired as she sagged and sat back on her heels. Head spinning, she wanted to lie down and be done with it. Let death come, let the growling thing eat her, and move on to whatever came next.
Heaven, Hell, a black abyss of nothing.
She’d take her chances.
“So broken,” the thing purred just behind her, and even though her body tensed, she didn’t move.
“Just kill me,” she repeated, and something like a laugh, but not, echoed in the darkness from all sides. It was disorienting, and she realized as her skin buzzed that the pain was fading a little. There was a humming in her blood, like a song, and the beat of it thrummed along her nerves.
Maybe this is what dying feels like, the brain shutting down.
It’s nice.
“Death is not so nice.” The voice was in front of her now, and her eyes played tricks, creating a hulking shape out of the darkness. A shadow darker than the black, but when she reached for it, her hand passed through empty air and wiped the illusion away.
“Death would be a gift.”
“So many other things to do…” A faster reply, almost against her ear, and Danielle turned as she felt her hair move. Like a light draft in the stagnant space. “I can show you.”
“Do whatever you want, just kill me when you’re done.” Sighing, she cursed herself internally for speaking to whatever delusion the smoke, or her failing body, had created.
“You are not dying, or delusional, Danielle.” The voice was close again, just behind her, and the way it said her name made her skin break out in shivers. “You would give yourself to me?” it asked in a low, purring thrum that ran down her spine.
“Does my answer matter?”
“Of courssssee…” Once more the voice was everywhere, scattered and echoing, and she shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, but one did not exist on the rough stone floor. “Will you?”
Sighing, Danielle looked up at where the ceiling would be if she could see. She had looked up at the ceiling during so many terrible things inside Eden, wondering if God could see her suffering, wondering if it would ever end — and there had never been an answer. There was not going to suddenly be one in the dark after being brutalized by the cruel priest and then the cardinals. This weak attempt at hope was just some last-ditch survival instinct of her brain, and she was done with that. Done and ready for the end. “I just want to die so I can escape all of this.”
“I can take your pain away,” the low, soft voice was like a whisper directly in her ear. “I can make you feel better, feel pleasure, feel powerful.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the voice, instead focusing on the memory of a warm voice reading from a book and the silken feel of her sister’s hair as she’d braided it. She remembered the café table, the playful smile of a young man who may have been someone she loved. In her head she saw flashes of trees swaying in the wind, rain falling on a pool creating thousands of ripples that she could never count.
The presence was close, almost like a buzz against her back. “I can help you remember.”
Turning, she could have sworn she saw a shadow move, and she swallowed past the dry sweetness in her mouth leftover from the smoke. “How?”
“You are so broken… I can help put you back together, Danielle.” A breeze against her face, warm, like something big had exhaled. “I can give back what they took from you.”
“What are you?” she whispered, and heard the thing’s soft echoing laugh.
“I am trapped. Just like you.”
“That’s not what I asked.” It had been so long since she had dared to speak her mind that it felt good to argue, to contradict, and no one slapped her or hit her for doing it.
“I want to hear all of the words you want to say,” it purred close by. “I want to hear all the noises you make.”
“Tell me what you are.”
This time the breeze came from behind, warmth blowing over her neck. “Your priests call me a demon.”
“Are you?” she whispered, a twist in her belly that could have been fear beneath the haze of the smoke.
“What I am they cannot comprehend, but they trapped me here. They want my power, use what they have stolen to heal their people.” Another purr, still behind her, and it made her ribs buzz. “But I can do so much more for you… you just have to say the words.”
“What words?” Her voice shook a little as she asked, because if the cardinals were right, then this would be true damnation — but what was the alternative? To die in pain? Or the chance that maybe they drag her out of the darkness, put her in the baptism baths, and return her to service?
She’d die first.
“I cannot damn you, Danielle.” Warmth coated her back, but there was nothing touching her, just… warmth. It soothed her as a soft rumble shook the room. “Just give yourself to me.”
“You’ll help me remember?” she asked, picturing sunlight on green grass.
“Yesss…” The voice scattered, echoed, and then moved around her as it continued. “I will fix what they have broken, as long as you give yourself to me.”
“Okay.”
“You must say it, Danielle.” The voice was close, like a whisper against her ear.
There was nothing left. Nothing of herself to protect, no scrap of her soul worth saving. Even if the thing lied, even if it meant death, at least it would end. She licked her lips, swallowing before she spoke. “I give myself to you.”
The rumble grew, louder and louder until the floor shook underneath her, and then she felt something wet move across the cut on her back. Like a big tongue, it stung for only a second, but before she could even wince, the pain was gone. “Good,” the voice hummed, still low, but stronger. More powerful. “You taste wonderful.”
Turning, she realized the fresh wound was completely healed. Not a tug on her skin, or an ache. “That’s amaz—” Danielle let out a short scream as she was suddenly lifted into the air, completely off the ground, and she flailed, scrambling to grab onto anything.
“I am here.” A low chuckle that turned into something closer to a growl as huge hands landed on her hips. Then she felt warm breath between her thighs, and she tried to snap them closed but found she couldn’t. “You bled here,” it said just before the tongue swiped through her folds.
“Oh my—” Shivers took over as the tongue stroked and slid, teasing her clit with each long sweep, and when it dipped inside, Danielle’s eyes rolled back. The flicking motion inside her was too much, and she came with a stunned cry. Legs shaking, body shuddering, there was a buzzing moan against her cunt as it returned to long licks. “What a-are you doing?” she asked.
“Fixing what they broke.” Another lick that teased her and sent her into little aftershocks. “You were perfect. They just could not see it.”
“I wasn’t a virgin,” she tried to explain, waiting for the thing’s attitude to turn violent, but instead she heard more low laughter.
“That does not matter to me.” The hands left her floating in the black, bereft of touch or direction until the voice came from the empty air above her. “It means nothing at all. And you were not a virgin when you were taken.”